not even a night.

just shriveling up

falling away

losing myself

in this endless torrent

of cruel sharp hits,

against my spine

upon my heart

strangling my spirit

from the inside

throughout.

and my body

just shakes

the pain always there

unable to rest

cause my nightmares

are real;

and that wish that i had

that dream that was drawn

with colors borrowed

from another’s world,

has shriveled as well

with the rest of my heart

while the devils lies

come true

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waves

like a hug

that lasts a minute

and then is gone

like it never existed..

and all i am

is a small girl

alone

in a scary

empty

world

hiding

behind

everything

everyone else

thinks

is real.

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in a nutshell

if nothing ever feels like that

how can anything ever feel right

at all.

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heavy lids

cant even write

for fear

of drunken

word

and loosened

tongue,

telling you

all

thats meant

to be kept

in chambers

all

my own.

 

 

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effort

if i could crawl,

into a cave;

-i would.

and ever remain

an unknown

to most,

and those that knew

might understand

and hold a glass,

or wish at night,

or sing a song,

or say my name;

but no one

would ever

be able to touch

and know one

would ever,

be able to see,

my huddled form

in fetal distress

trying to regain

the brief moments

of calm~

before it all,

got too noisy

to bear.

 

 

 

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then…

if freedom is

just

the pat pat pat

of small odd feet

on busy street

with skinny legs

and thighs that hold

and rounded hips

on softened core

with thump thump thump

of beating heart

in rounded bosom

with breath drawn in

to swirling scents

outside light eyes

that gleam

in still young face

and soul

and thoughts that idle

in crazy head

that perhaps ill come

to love

one day…

 

 

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not even a number.

so small

and insignificant

begging

for crumbs

of something

i

can never

have.

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